


Tù eres mi paz, no eres mi dolor

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Original Work
Genre: Battle Couple, Blood and Injury, F/M, Fluff, Historical Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Loyalty, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Past Character Death, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28026852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: A knight swears to protect, cherish, and perish for his Queen, if fate demands it. Maiximo thinks, although he shouldn't, that his vows of fealty aren't that far removed from those one would take during a wedding.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Warrior Queen/Her Loyal Male Knight
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5
Collections: When Death Loves Flamingos





	Tù eres mi paz, no eres mi dolor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darlingargents](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingargents/gifts).



> A very late ph of 666 words! Hopefully this is enjoyable 😂💙

The wall was solid behind his back, the same white _piedra_ he always made sure to touch before they marched on to battle. He couldn't remember if he had touched it before this one. It was too sudden, too close — he was needed too fast. She… she had marched with only the fore-guard around her, and that couldn't be. 

"You _idiota_!" She pushed him back against the wall the moment he tried leaning forward. He could not see her face but it did not take Maiximo much to picture what it must have looked like in this moment. 

He'd rushed out of the carriage, rushed off his horse then too, and invariably thrown himself between an assailant and his Queen. Half a minute, maybe less, would have let him assess the situation more, would have let him see what he already knew — that Lucila rarely ever needed protecting on the battlefield, that she had it covered, had _herself_ covered. 

Instead, he'd lunged between his Queen and the Westerner, and received a stab of the enemy's sword at the hip and a bleeding temple for falling at Lucila's feet, on the cold hard ground. 

He was bleeding when she woke him up from his dizziness with the tip of a disdainful, terrified sword under his chin, and he was still bleeding now that she had sat him down in a corner of her quarters back at home. 

She had cursed the whole way home, had threatened him with dishonor if he chose to die today, had caressed his hand and squeezed as she prayed for him and he tried to stay awake from her despite the blood loss. 

The bandage she had wound around his head was still obscuring his sight completely when Lucila finally calmed down. He felt better, and he wanted to tell her that, wanted to apologize again. 

She didn't let him. 

"Maiximo Latorre, nunca puedes morir, me entiendes? Nunca. No te le permito." 

The Spanish wasn't new, but even though Maiximo had been born in the same land she had, he had lived in Port-Royal too long, had grown up here from a young enough age that even though he still understood the language, the instinct to revert to it in dire circumstances had vanished. It hadn't for Lucila, and now that her husband, the King of the land, had been dead a number of years, she used it more and more. He liked it, it showed she cared, and even through the layers of protocols and etiquette and propriety telling him that assuming her care of him was presumptuous, Maiximo searched for her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. 

"I'm still here, and you and I have both come back from injuries far worse than these, my Queen." 

"Are you saying I am unreasonable?" She asked, or snapped rather, her voice warm still but cutting into Maiximo's countenance, making him glad she couldn't see his eyes either in this moment. " _You_ were unreasonable out there, _un idiota_ even!"

Rather than answer, Maiximo squeezed the Queen's hand again, and let the silence calm both of them. 

"I cannot lose you, too." Lucila said after what could have been hours, sitting next to him with their shoulders and thighs touching, breathing shallowly. 

His bleeding must have stopped, because the world was no longer swaying like the furious sea. As carefully as he could, he pulled his bandage up and off his head. 

Lucila looked exhausted, dirtied up by the battleground, blood smeared on her cheek and dried earth in her neck. She was breathtaking; Maiximo searched for her hand, and bore the mute strength of her stare on him. 

He had loved her since the first time they had met, and that love had only grown as the years went by. As they went through war, celebrations, grief and hope together. He loved her and breathed because she did. He loved her, because she seeked his hand in the dark. And so did he.   
  


**Author's Note:**

>  _"Maiximo Latorre, nunca puedes morir, me entiendes? Nunca. No te le permito."_ "Maiximo Latorre, you cannot die, ever, understand me? Never. I won't allow it."


End file.
